


How it should feel when it's meant to be

by Roxie Ann (pluvial_poetry)



Series: How it should feel when it's meant to be [1]
Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: Ending a Relationship, M/M, and starting a new one, no physical infidelity occurs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-02
Updated: 2013-04-02
Packaged: 2017-12-07 07:34:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,049
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/745944
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pluvial_poetry/pseuds/Roxie%20Ann
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>"You know I have a boyfriend," Arthur reminds him. </i>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>In which Arthur considers breaking up with his boyfriend for Eames.</p>
            </blockquote>





	How it should feel when it's meant to be

"You don't need to walk me home, Eames," Arthur says as Eames follows him out of the bar. "I'll be fine. I'm a big boy." He pops his jacket collar against the brisk March wind, walking down an empty London street after midnight. He's definitely got a pleasant buzz going but he's not drunk. The beer over in England is more like a food group than alcohol. He feels full and sleepy, not like he's going to stumble into traffic and set the job back one hospital stay. 

"That you are," Eames says, but he keeps hovering at Arthur's elbow, braced for Arthur to fall, an unlit cigarette dangling from his mouth. "All the same, I prefer to see you home safe. I was told in no uncertain terms that a gentleman should always see one's date to their door."

"It wasn't a date. It was a planning session. And we're in Chelsea," Arthur argues with a roll of his eyes. He's also armed, and trained in four different types of hand to hand combat, as Eames well knows. Arthur can take care of himself. He always does.

"A hotbed of crime and iniquity," Eames says gravely, rolling the cigarette's filter over his bottom lip. "Really, Arthur, safety in numbers is our best protection."

It sounds good. It could almost be the truth, if Eames was the kind of guy to worry about whether his tipsy coworkers would be mugged on their way home from the bar, and if Arthur was the kind of guy who someone would need to worry about. Which neither of them were. So it made it a hell of a lot more likely that Eames had some kind of ulterior motive.

"Or," Arthur reasons, studying Eames' face in profile; his hair neatly slicked back, stubble on his jaw, "You're following me back to my hotel to try to get me into bed."

Eames doesn't bother to hide the smirk. Neither does Arthur. It had been a pretty safe bet. And yet, despite the mutual attraction obviously there between them, he and Eames haven't slept together. The timing has just never been right for some reason. Living on different ends of the Earth, demanding work schedules, the occasional significant other. Speaking of which--

"You know I have a boyfriend," Arthur reminds him.

"Mmm, yes, we've met. And how is Meril?" Eames asks, futilely patting at his pockets looking for a light for his cigarette. Eventually he gives up the ghost and slides it back into its pack.

Arthur hesitates over his answer. He could say that everything is great, that would shut Eames down easily enough. And he wouldn't take it personally, he never did. While Eames might occasionally push at Arthur's boundaries, he always respected a serious "no". But if Arthur gives Eames an inch, Eames will take it and more. He isn't sure how much he's willing to give up to Eames, right here and right now. But Arthur wants to give something, to unbend, even just a little.

"You know that phase when you first meet someone," Arthur says slowly as they continue to walk down the street toward Arthur's hotel, "and you've just realized that maybe you could like them. Everything they do is new and fascinating and sexy. You spend hours together and it isn't enough, you want him all the time, and when he's with you, you just can't help yourself, you have to touch him." Arthur looks over, meeting Eames' eyes, licking his lips as Eames watches avidly.

"I do recall something of the kind, yes," Eames says, swallowing hard. And the look on his face is inviting. Promising.

"Well, we're past that and straight into annoyance, frustration and mediocre lays," Arthur says with a little shrug.

"A shame and a pity," Eames replies fervently, his arm brushing against Arthur's. Arthur doesn't move away from the touch.

It is kind of a shame if Arthur thinks about it. He never starts a relationship meaning to be an asshole. His intentions hadn't been pure by any means; Meril's long legs and big hands had made sure of that, but they had been good. He had spent six months courting Meril, if long distance Skype sessions and text messages could be considered courting, before they had officially started dating. But now - he's not laughing at Meril's jokes anymore, Arthur's ignoring his phone calls more often than not, and their sex life consists of exchanging quickie handjobs because anything else isn't really worth the effort. He's bored with it all. It's not what he wants, and he's not sure how long he's supposed to pretend that it is to spare Meril's feelings.

And then there's Eames. Who looks good and smells good and Arthur very much wants to fuck. And who's infuriating, and contradictory, and kind of a dick. But never boring. Arthur could see himself wanting that. 

Eames seems intrigued as Arthur explains all that with bald-faced honesty.

"I'm not saying that it will work out with us. I can't assume things will be different with you," Arthur informs Eames. He might be a little more tipsy than he had thought, he decides as his slight weaving takes him into Eames' side, and he accepts the hand that Eames places on the small of his back to steady him.

Eames hums out an inquiring note. "My stunning wit and personality haven't convinced you?"

"More like your shoulders, mouth, and ass," Arthur says with a sly grin. Eames grins in return and leans in a little at that, but as much as Arthur wants to taste him, "I haven't broken up with Meril yet."

Eames backs off with a shrug. "Yet."

"Five days," Arthur offers. He's taking a risk but he doesn't mind that if the reward is worth it. And it just might be this time.

"Are we negotiating? How about three days?"

"Eames," Arthur says repressively. It's probably not as effective when his dimples are showing, he thinks.

"I suppose five days isn't that long," Eames says with a huff, "In the grand scheme of things." Eames reaches out a hand this time, Arthur shaking it solemnly, and because it feels right, he allows Eames to keep it and hold on to it as they continue down the road.

**Author's Note:**

> I had a hard time deciding how to tag this, so if I missed anything, please let me know!


End file.
